All Things Bright and Beautiful
by Salmagundi
Summary: This is why you shouldn't ride your cowboy bareback. Canada/America, mpreg. New: Prologue - Making Baby


**All Things Bright and Beautiful**

_Warnings: (in this chapter) Sex, (overall) mpreg._

_Author's Note: Written for the Hetalia Kink Meme Prompt: Nine Months. The prologue was also posted for the prompt "Someone/America - cowboy hat and cowgirl position" under the name "Ride 'em, Cowboy!"_

Prologue:

It never failed to be frustrating that America could be sexy even when he was at his most idiotic. All it took was one quirky grin and Canada wasn't sure if he should be screwing the dumbass senseless or heading for the hills. That expression promised mayhem, the fact that America was dressed in his so-called "wrangling" clothes offered nothing to ease his mind. "You didn't rob another train, did you?"

"Of course not!" America let out his breath in a quick huff. "Besides, even if I did, it's my money anyway. I don't see why they get so worked up. I always give it back... sooner or later." The last was under his breath, but Canada heard it anyway. "Why would you even ask?"

"You want us to swap clothes and then you want me to mimic the way you talk. Other than another ridiculous attempt to avoid being put in the stockade by switching places with me, why would you possibly wa-" His voice cut off in a squeak, the sound embarrassingly high. How could anyone blame him though, when America was leaning so casually against him, one hand fiddling with a rather sensitive area on Canada's body.

"Oh, I'm sure I could think of a few other reasons," America purred in his ear, reaching up with his other hand to tug his leather hat off, dropping it onto his brother's head. Canada sputtered softly in protest, the words dying on his lips as he caught sight of his brother's expression, mischief and heat glittering in those blue eyes. "C'mon. Tell you what, just to be fair, I'll even pretend like I'm you."

"H-how is that fair, exactly?"

America's lips pursed in a pout, "Aww.... don't be a killjoy, Mattie. Can't we just have a little bit of fun?" The tip of his tongue traced the curve of Canada's ear before he whispered, "You'll enjoy it, I promise."

Canada sighed. There was no way he was going to win this. "Okay, Al."

His words were greeted with an enthusiastic whoop and a hug that threatened to crush his ribs, then America was stepping backward, shrugging out of his vest and holding it out to him. He put it on, still a little dubious, but when he looked back at his brother, he was astonished to see the intent way that America was looking at him. He flicked his tongue across his lips, swallowing as America crept forward, pressing a kiss to his lips. It was not the kiss he'd expected - hesitant, almost timid - and he wondered if his brother had somehow lost his mind. This behavior was nothing short of mind boggling.

When America pulled back, there was a smug glimmer in his eyes that ruined the innocent look he was fixing Canada with. "Well?" He tipped his head, "Talk to me." As he leaned down to kiss at Canada's throat, he added, "eh." and everything suddenly became a lot clearer. Color rushed into Canada's cheeks.

Canada's voice was shaking a little as he tried to force it into an imitation of the western accent his brother always donned with this hat. The fact that America was unbuttoning his shirt and kissing a path downward across his chest did nothing to help. Canada was already wracking his brain for some inspiration - he'd known his brother all his life, after all, it shouldn't have been this difficult to mimic him. "D-don't worry. I'm the hero..."

America paused, on one knee. His fingers were hooked loosely into the waistband of Canada's pants but made no more to tug them down as he darted a curious gaze up at his brother. The slight quirk of his eyebrow succeeded in making Canada feel ridiculous. "Hmm... I don't think you've quite got it." He said slowly, nuzzling his cheek against his twin's belly, drawing the words out thoughtfully - as though they were discussing international politics instead of personal idiosyncrasies. "Try talking dirty."

"What?!" America could not have just said what he thought he'd said...

"Dirty." America repeated patiently, his hand cupping Canada through the fabric of his pants, fingers kneading. "Don't tell me you don't know what that is."

Oh, he knew. By the fifteen shades of red his face turned, he definitely knew. What he didn't know was how, exactly, that was going to help his ability to do a Southern accent, or even his ability to not pass out at the embarrassment of having to utter... those things.

But his brother was looking up at him expectantly, with an expression so casual that Canada would have smacked him if he'd been capable of it right at the moment. His breath was hot on the bared expanse of Canada's belly, robbing away his ability to think and replacing it with low shivers snaking up through his middle.

He caved. "Wh- what should I-"

"Say?" America finished for him, his voice a bright chirp that made Canada shudder all the more. "Just do what I do, Mattie."

"And... what's that?" Oh god... America was fiddling with the front of his pants again, undoing the button, and generally being a horny bastard who was making it hard to think of a coherent reply.

America's blue eyes glittered as he raised his head until their gazes locked. Canada wasn't sure what it was, but something about that look on his brother's face made his heart do a flip-flop in his chest. His expression was so serious... Then he opened his mouth and it became ridiculous. "Listen to the hat. It should inspire you."

"Listen to the hat?" His brother had to be joking, but there was no hint of humor in America's demeanor.

"That's right. Just let it do its thing and go along." It was official... America was a complete lunatic. A complete lunatic who had a hand shoved down the front of his pants.

"A-agh..."

"See - I think you're getting closer already! That was definitely a Southern-sounding moan!"

"Alfred-" He hissed his brother's name between his teeth, unable to manage much more as he felt America's fingers curling around his hard flesh and stroking with easy familiarity. They knew each other's bodies well after all this time and it was no surprise when America flicked his thumb along the underside just so and wrung another stuttering moan past Canada's lips. "You- unf..." _You are a goddamn lunatic. And a total ass. And I swear if you stop I'm going to throttle you..._

Pants were jerked down around his ankles and he stepped out of them automatically, absorbed in the feeling of his brother's hot breaths against his skin. America's tongue flicked across his abdomen, just above the place Canada wanted him to go, teasing. America was too damn good at that.

"So, the first thing a cowboy needs to know, is how to _ride_." The twist of his lips gave the word a lewd edge. "So... tell me Matt, how are you going to ride me?"

Shit... he wanted dirty talk, didn't he? He knew that expectant tone. "I.... uh..." He couldn't even think, let along force those words past his lips. "I... I'm going to ride you like a bronco." That was a Southern way of saying it, right? A soft sound from America, but he couldn't see his brother's face.

"Oh?" Noncommittal. He had no clue if America was getting anything from this or not.

"I'm- unh - I'm g-going to..." Think Southern... "I'm going to tumble you like a tumbleweed."

Okay, that was definitely a giggle. Frustration surged through his veins, mixed together with the heat from his brother's caresses. Canada stiffened - and not in the fun way.

"Don't laugh at me, you ass! This was your stupid idea!"

America drew back with a smirk but said nothing, going down on all fours with his hind end to Canada. "So you're going to ride me like a bronco, huh?" He purred, drawing a finger into his mouth, trailing his tongue slowly over it. "Just like that?" A teasing shake of his rear and Canada growled in arousal and outrage - lunging at America.

His weight bore his brother down, a heavy thud and then America was pinned beneath him. Canada molded himself to his brother's back - the two of them fitting together neatly from head to hip, his length trapped teasingly against America's ass. Beneath him, America gave a soft laugh, a slight buck, and Canada panted against the back of his brother's neck, his warm breath stirring that honey-blonde hair and making America squirm a little with a faint, ticklish noise.

"Ooh... tease..." America purred, then gasped as Canada's hands slid around him, pulling them more tightly against one another. "Nnn...Mattie..." It was the first falter from his brother, and Canada smiled as he nuzzled that spot along the curve of America's jaw, his tongue flicking out to graze the edge of one ear. "You're doing that on purpose-"

"If I am, then you deserve it," He murmured, his hand sliding down to rub and stroke at America through the denim of his jeans. When his brother reached down to undo his pants, Canada caught hold of his wrist, preventing the move. "You left them on-" He cooed, almost too sweet, listening to his brother's low sounds of frustration and feeling satisfaction welling in him. "-Now they'll stay on until I feel like helping you out of them." There was a steely undertone to his voice that was so rarely heard, and America lowered his forehead to rest against the grass, his hips bucking heedlessly toward Canada's hand.

He could have had his brother like this for as long as he wanted - part of him was tempted to draw out America's pleasure until he was begging for it, but Canada wasn't sure he would have been able to hold onto his patience for that long. He nuzzled at his brother's hair, drawing in a deep breath and immersing himself in the scent of America. His hands traced the planes of his brother's chest before trailing downward, his thumb grazing against the button on America's jeans. America went still beneath him and he smiled against the golden strands as he finally relented and undid the restrictive fabric. Canada leaned back, watching as he tugged the material down to expose America's sun-kissed skin to the open air.

A kiss pressed to the small of America's back as he tugged the jeans down to his brother's thighs. Hands cupped the smooth globes of America's ass, kneading in slow circles that drew him ever closer to the place both of them wanted him to go. He came close with each rotation of his palms, tantalizing America, letting his thumbs apply a slight pressure every time with each motion away from the center, just enough to pull his brother's cheeks apart and expose that flushed bud to his sight.

Beneath him, America was fisting the grass, and Canada could read the effort he was making not to cry out in the way his muscles tensed and flexed. But that wasn't right... he _wanted_ to hear America. He bent down across his brother's back again, breathed in his ear, "Don't do that..." He purred, "I like the sounds you make."

"F...fuck, Matt..." America gave a breathless bark of laughter, his body trembling. Canada reached his hand around and felt his brother already completely hard, smearing a dribble of pre-come against his fingertips. He gave a slight squeeze and heard his brother moan, straining toward his hand.

"You really don't have any shame, do you?" He nipped America's ear, felt the body beneath him tense, but the hard member against his palm only twitched. "Look at you... spread out under me..." Canada could barely keep his own voice steady; he wanted so badly to bury himself in America's welcoming heat, knew that his brother wanted it too and that he was drawing their pleasure out until it became sharp - the pain of ecstasy deferred for a little longer. Their bodies were already singing with need and he wondered how much more of this they could endure - could he make his brother ask for it? Could he make America beg for it? "You want this..."

America's hips rolled, the motion rubbing Canada's arousal against his ass and making both of them hiss. But he he didn't say anything to confirm or deny his brother's words, only panting and rocking beneath the body atop him.

_Say it. Say it so we can both have what we want._ His voice was low, hoarse with need - he barely recognized it. "Admit it..." He almost choked on the words, "Admit you want this."

A few seconds longer with just the harshness of their own breaths filling the air, then America turned his head, his eyes a dark, hazy blue as their gazes met and locked. "I need you, Matt -" There was no embarrassment in his expression or his voice, just a raw desire that sent heat licking through Canada's veins. It was going to burn him up from the inside out if he _didn't get inside America right now._ "-please." And this last word, barely a gasp, was all it took to shatter what semblance of control Canada had left.

His fingers were slick with lubricant as they prodded between his brother's cheeks, and he was forced to draw back enough so that he could see what he was doing. A fingertip pressed to that tight ring, and Canada drew a steadying breath as he applied pressure and felt his brother give beneath him. Both of them gasped at the initial penetration, America's body clenching around Canada's finger. He held very still, waiting until he felt his brother beginning to relax before sliding deeper. It didn't take much before America's hips were rocking again, the motion forcing Canada's digit deeper.

He was surprised by his own patience as he prepared America, carefully easing a second finger in beside the first. Canada pulled them back for a moment to apply more oil - because even being as painfully hard as he was, he wasn't going to risk hurting his brother - a smile creeping across his face as the second finger made America whimper and press toward his touch. It occurred to him that the way America was right now - on all fours, ass up and mewling like a cat in heat - was a sight he wanted to see more often. He pressed a kiss to America's shoulder, scattering nips down the line of his back as he stroked his brother's shaft with his free hand. America was moaning something that might have been his name, his hips trembling as he tried to move but found his rhythm dictated by Canada's fingers on him - inside him.

Canada was shaking a little too, almost spilling the oil as he slicked a third finger. It went in faster than he'd expected, drawn wetly into America's body. This time he brushed that spot he'd mostly been avoiding - he knew it by the strangled yelp and the way America immediately pressed back against him, trying to force him to touch that one tiny bundle of nerves again. He pulled his hand away as America made the attempt, his fingers sliding free and wringing a choked groan from the nation beneath him.

And he hoped that was enough preparation, because he couldn't take any more...

He took himself in hand - almost flinching at the touch, he was so aroused. As Canada slicked himself, he was aware of America glancing over his shoulder at him, flushed and panting... so terribly tempting. Their lips met as Canada leaned forward across his brother's back, the two of them kissing - lingering for a moment with their mouths so close that he was breathing the air from America's lungs. When he drew back, he could only manage it because the closeness he was about to have with his twin would be so much more complete.

The tip of his length brushed against America, his tongue flicking across his lips as he rested a hand against his brother's thigh to steady them. He shifted, pressed forward... almost bit through his tongue at the sensation of being wrapped up in America's welcoming heat. Oh god... he'd almost forgotten this... how could he have forgotten this? He couldn't pause to give America time to adjust and could only hope he wasn't causing his brother any pain as he continued his steady slide forward. He only stopped when their bodies were flush against each other and he could go no farther, yet still wishing for more, that he could get deeper. Canada wanted to sob with how it felt... the two of them fitted as perfectly together as nature had intended.

It wasn't until he heard America groan, his brother's body jerking beneath him, that he was torn from his moment of near-rapture. He kissed at the back of America's neck, nuzzled the sweat-dampened strands of his hair and began to move, finally. He drew out a short distance, felt America clench, then thrusted forward again. The motions were tentative at first, but the noises from his brother's throat were encouragement instead of pain, and he found himself moving more quickly, taking America with an unaccustomed roughness.

America growled beneath him, a primal, guttural noise and he felt heat spiking low in his belly. Canada nipped sharply, leaving a red mark on America's skin - the smooth curve of his neck - then pressed his lips to it and sucked. Marked. His brother. _His._

"Fuck..." America's words tangled together as they bounced off his tongue, "fuck... oh... fu- ...Mattie... god..." His head lowered until his cheek was resting against the grass, enough for Canada to see the flush on his face, the sweat beading at his temples. Hips jerked up to meet him, forcing Canada deep and making both of them grunt softly in unison.

Canada couldn't help the soft almost-laugh that escaped him at the thought of his brother being speechless. America didn't always have the most sensible things to say - okay, he rarely did - but to see him truly at a loss for words was a real rarity. He felt America clench around him, his entire body tensing for a split second; then America shot him a sharp glare that wasn't diluted in the least by the fact that Canada was still buried inside of him.

"Not funny..." He managed to gasp the words out between a couple of particularly rough thrusts of his brother's body against his own.

"But it is-" Canada crowed softly against America's ear. "Just look at it from my point of view." He kissed the back of his brother's neck, closing his eyes as he continued to rock in and out of America's tight passage.

There were a few things he'd come to expect from America in regards to sex. America liked sex. A lot. No... not liked... he loved it. He was a very responsive partner, whether it be in bed, pressed up against a wall or face down in the grass. But there were things he didn't like too. Stopping was the biggest no-no where America was concerned. So when America bucked back against him in earnest - a move sharp and unexpected enough to send his twin tumbling backward and out of him, Canada never saw it coming.

He hit the ground rump first, with barely enough time to register what was going on before he was sprawled flat on his back. America was on top of him in a heartbeat, hands pinning his shoulders to the ground. There was still a fetching flush on his cheeks, but Canada's attention was caught by the wicked grin his brother was sporting.

"That was a pretty good try, Mattie - not bad at all... but-" America flicked his tongue across his lips, his expression shifting to an outright smirk as he reached down to tug the hat off of his brother's head. "Let a real cowboy show you how it's done." America shifted, stretched - long and languid - before pushing back to his feet, kicking out of his jeans and standing above Canada clad only in skin. He donned the hat with an easy flick of the wrist, not fazed at being bare to the elements: heedless. Shameless. Damn beautiful... god.

Canada could have gotten up, he was free to do so if he wanted, but his brother's gaze pinned him in place. America moved in on him again, straddling his hips with the two of them facing each other. One hand reached down behind himself, fingers tracing the length of his brother's erection. Canada let out a muffled groan, trying to bite it back as he saw the glimmer of satisfaction in those sky-blue eyes. He failed... utterly... when America gave him a slight squeeze before guiding the rounded head to press against the slick ring of muscle, their eyes still locked with one another as he began to push down, slowly sinking onto Canada's shaft.

Hands came up, palms brushing against America's thighs. Canada could feel the trembling in the lean muscles of his brother's legs, the effort it took to move so slowly when both of them wanted to feel him buried completely. When America's weight settled, with Canada finally sheathed in his brother's heat, they paused a moment to enjoy the sensation. Unified. _I want you like this, always,_ Canada said, with only the brush of his hands, the mingled desire and need in his eyes. _Always mine. Only mine..._ Just because he couldn't have it, didn't mean he didn't still want it with every fiber of his being.

America leaned down, their lips brushing in a tentative kiss, lingering for a moment, and Canada could see understanding in his twin's eyes. I know. America's expression said, and there was something both sad and bittersweet between them for a moment, then his brother started to shift. He raised himself on Canada's length, pulling almost free before lowering again. The movements were slow at first, gaining in speed and confidence, and it was all Canada could do to grip at America's hips and hold on as his brother rode him.

Head thrown back, exposing the line of his throat, his chest rising and falling in sharp bursts, America was the very definition of untamed. The hat tipped with every thrust, hanging precariously but never dislodging entirely. Canada managed to disentangle one hand from his death grip on America's hips, wrapping his fingers around his brother's length and feeling America buck wildly above him.

"God. Fucking. Damn..." America let out a string of swear words that were distinctly sacrilegious and Canada felt the urge to laugh. _So much for the Puritans..._ But he was too wrapped in the sensations to care. He began to push upward in sharp snaps to meet America halfway, earning a garbled spill of nonsense sounds as he found his brother's sweet spot. Canada aimed for it again, felt his brother shudder on the edge, clenching around him.

A slight squeeze and America came undone - milky warmth on Canada's fingers, staining the front of his shirt. A few droplets splattered across his glasses. For a few seconds, America was completely still, panting; then he leaned forward and licked across his brother's cheek in short flicks, gathering his own essence on his tongue before sealing their mouths together in a hungry, needful kiss. Canada groaned into it, hips jerking - he was still hard...

When their lips parted, America gave him a slightly exhausted version of his usual shining grin and began to move again. Canada could feel the deliberateness this time, the way America clenched and rippled around him in just the right way to drive him mad with pleasure and need. Hands gripped at America's middle, nails clawing him and leaving some livid scratches in his haste. Far from being a deterrent, the slight pain only drove his brother on, the sounds of their breathless moans and the slick slide of skin on skin filling the air.

Then America pushed down again, taking Canada as deeply as he could - whispering his brother's name in just that tone... And Canada gasped, bucked... hit his climax with America's name on his tongue. Filled his brother with his seed as America leaned down to press their bodies against one another - chest to chest. He could feel every breath reverberating through America like it was his own.

Canada trembled as he started to come down from his high, wrapping his arms around America's bare back and cradling him close. He could feel himself beginning to soften but he didn't want to pull out yet - relishing this connection between them for as long as he could. America kissed him, exploring his mouth slowly, pulling back on occasion just enough to allow them to breathe. Immersing themselves in each other. Canada shivered as he slipped free at last, so reluctant, but the two of them didn't move from where they lay.

The brim of the hat bumped against Canada's forehead and he pushed it up with one finger, casting a playful grin at America. "So that's how a real cowboy does it?" He laughed, still breathless.

"It's like I was telling you, Mattie..." America purred, "You just have to let the hat guide you. The Zen of the hat..."

"...Hat Zen, Alfred? Okay... now you're just making shit up."

"Don't question the hat," His brother huffed, tone still playful. "It knows all." Both of them froze at the sound of hoof beats approaching.

"Uh... Al... does the hat know who that is?" Canada felt a surge of panic, reaching up to try and push his brother off of him. The effort failed, since it was always hard to make America move when he didn't want to.

"Fuck!" By the sharp edge to his brother's voice, it was clear that America knew who was coming, hat or no hat. The cloud of dust preceding the riders cleared enough that Canada could see that there were several men on horseback. They didn't look happy. As they drew closer, he caught a glimpse of light reflecting off the badge at the lead rider's chest.

_Goddamn it, Alfred! _"You lied! You said you didn't rob a train!"

"I didn't lie!" America panted back at him, never taking his gaze away from the approaching men. "It was a stagecoach, not a train. Geez, you'd think these guys didn't have anything better to do."

"-than their job?" Canada finished for him and didn't miss his brother shooting him a quick glare.

The riders came up close,drawing their horses to a halt. Then, instead of immediately pulling out their guns, they stopped and kind of gaped a little and Canada finally remembered that the two of them were in a compromising position. At this distance, it was impossible - or at least unlikely - for them to miss the small nuances - the semen staining his brother's rear and thighs and splattered across Canada's front. He could hear their brains beginning to splinter.

One of them finally pulled himself together enough to clear his throat, the words tripping awkwardly off his tongue. "Alfred Jones," The man said, trying not to look directly at either of them, "You're under arrest for thievery." The way his voice shook, it didn't sound particularly threatening, "Surrender yourself or we'll be forced to use... uh... force."

"Will you?" Canada didn't like that note - the low purring undertone to his brother's words. "Well, I guess I'd better surrender then." He stood, turned toward them in all of his naked glory, completely unflinching. "I mean, that does seem like my only option, right?" America approached them slowly, a predatory walk if Canada had ever seen one. What was he up to?

"That's right." The men shifted uncomfortably as America drew near.

"Or -" America's tone shifted, bright and cheerful, "- we could go with my plan! _Hyah!_" He slapped the Sheriff's horse on the side, making the animal whinny and rear and nearly unseating the man. His other hand was pulling at the saddle straps, loosening them, and when the horse bucked again, the Sheriff came off, saddle and all. America was on the beast's back with an easy leap, galloping away and leaving four gaping posse members and one flabbergasted nation in his wake.

"A...Al?" Canada trembled, trying to struggle to his feet and snatching for his pants. The mens' gazes all went to him and he felt a cold prickle run down his spine.

"What will we do with this one?"

There was a twist to the Sheriff's lips, disgust and revulsion. "We'll hang him. If he's not a bandit, then he's an abomination at least." The men leaped down, grabbed hold of Canada by the arms and twisted his hands roughly behind his back, making him yelp. Panic surged through him.

Then the sound of hoof beats filled the entire world. The ground trembled, and all of them froze, turned to look at the huge cloud of dust that was rapidly approaching them. After a moment, Canada could make out the horses - a herd of horses with no bridles or saddles. Wild. And at their head: America, perched bareback on the lead stallion, hands tangled in the dark, whipping mane, still naked and laughing like a madman.

It occurred to Canada that they were all about to be trampled, fear darting through him again. But America's horse drew up ahead of the others, rounding on the men before he yanked at the stallion's mane and the animal reared - forelegs kicking with a deadly grace.

"I believe you have something of mine," America grinned. "Sorry guys, but no one gets to put a rope around my brother's neck but me." As the horse settled back onto all fours and the men continued gaping, America reached down and caught hold of Canada by the front of his shirt, hauling him belly-down across the stallion's back. He gave the horse a slight kick in the ribs, causing the animal to begin moving again, but he did spare a moment to glance over his shoulder and smirk. "Oh yeah... you guys might wanna run."

Canada could hear them swearing, scrambling to get away as the herd thundered closer, but America's stallion was already carrying them away from the fracas.

After they'd gone a good distance, America slowed the beast down, helping his brother to sit astride the animal's back properly. Canada was livid. "How could you just ditch me back there?"

"I didn't." America replied easily, adjusting his hat with one hand, the other wrapped around Canada's middle to hold him steady. How he managed to not be thrown would forever remain a mystery. "I just had to call in some reinforcements." The sharp smack of Canada's fist meeting America's shoulder. "Ow! What was that for? I saved your life, didn't I?"

"You almost got me killed!"

A pout, that damn _'look I'm cute, don't be angry at me'_ pout. "You know you love me."

Huff. "I do." He did. He couldn't lie about that. But - "I'm still mad at you!"

America's fingers brushed along his jaw, cupping his chin and turning his head slightly. Their lips brushed. Canada tried to remember that he was pissed off at the jerk for almost getting him hung and trampled, not to mention thoroughly humiliated, but it was a task easier said than done when his brother was ravishing his mouth like that.

When they finally broke their kiss, he gave a snort and a soft smack against his twin's arm. "Fine. I forgive you. But you're still an insensitive ass."

"Hmm... I would be offended at that... but I know how much you love my ass..." Purr.

Oh god... he just had to say _that_... in _that_ voice. Canada groaned at the low heat pooling in his belly. "You're incorrigible..."

"Hmm... you could always try _pounding_ some sense into me."

"It wouldn't do any good..."

"But you'd enjoy it."

Damn it. Just... damn.

Still... if you couldn't beat America, you might as well have fun joining him, right? "Just... not out in the open this time."

"I think there's some old bandit hideouts in those foothills..." That was probably a terrible idea, but so hot that Canada didn't even care anymore. "Or maybe we could do what you want instead and behave ourselves. I could teach you how to use a lasso? Or maybe the right way to ride a horse." _Oh no he didn't..._

Canada reached up and tugged the hat from America's head, slipping it on with a smile curled at the edges of his lips. "Forget the horse, Alfred. I've got me a hankering to ride a cowboy." He could see his brother shuddering at the heated look in his eyes.

America gave a breathless laugh that was cut off as Canada dragged him into a hot kiss, sliding his tongue into his - for once compliant - brother's mouth. They only broke away when the need for air became too pressing to ignore. "Goddamn, Mattie..." America wheezed softly, "That was-" His voice trailed off into an unintelligible moan as nimble fingers slid low.

"So... is that Southern enough for you?" Canada purred.

"O-oh god, yes." His brother moaned. "Congrats, Mattie... You've mastered the hat."

"Oh good. Now, about that lasso..."

-End Prologue-


End file.
